


Come When I Call

by MarieQuiteContrarie (SeaStar1330)



Series: Morning Glory [4]
Category: Anyelle - Fandom, Macelle - Fandom, Once Upon a Time (TV), The Tournament (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anyelle, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Macelle - Freeform, Married Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 11:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14307417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaStar1330/pseuds/MarieQuiteContrarie
Summary: Belle calls Joseph at work, but when he rushes home at her insistence, she’s in the shower.





	Come When I Call

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the Morning Glory verse; this is really just an excuse to write more married Macelle smut. I recommend reading Morning Glory first for backstory.

The sound of the shower running is a definite letdown. Standing in the doorway of the apartment, Joseph tilts his head toward the wall, listening closely. Hearing the telltale ping of the old pipes in the tiny entryway confirms his suspicions. He gives the door a half-hearted kick closed and hangs his bicycle on the rack with a sigh, feeling confused and a little foolish.

After his considerable effort to rush home in record time, Belle has decided to bathe now?

This evening’s telephone conversation with his wife—he at the drugstore to accept evening deliveries while she was closing the library for the day—has him wound up and aching to be inside her. His hot, itchy skin is drawn tight across his stiff limbs, desire simmering beneath the surface, heating his blood.

* * *

_“How much longer?” she asks, sounding husky and breathy through the receiver._

_Joseph looks around the store at the half-unpacked cartons and sighed. “Two, maybe three hours yet. Massive shipment came in.”  
_

_"Too long,” she says with a whimper, and he can almost see her shaking her head at the phone. “I’ve missed you so much today, Joseph. I want your cock inside me.”_

_Belle is never shy about communicating her desires, but the breath still leaves his body in an unexpected whoosh._

_His eyes slide closed at her bold, needy request and he stumbles back against a display of greeting cards, his fist clenched against his taut belly. Already at half-mast, he shoots a furtive glance at Clark while he unpacks boxes in Aisle 2, praying the pharmacist can’t guess the nature of the conversation. “Belle,” he whines, “please, lass, don’t do this to me now.”_

_Both of them know he doesn’t mean a word of it._

_“I’m leaving the library,” she reports. “Oh Joseph, I’m so wet. Are you on your way home?”_

_He creeps behind the soda fountain and slumps down the wall with a gulp, her sultry tone arousing him to the point of distraction. “Not yet. Long night.” His drops his head back, letting it hit the wall, the roughness of the cold, abrasive surface against his skull a much-needed reality check._

_“How long?” she asks again, pretending not to hear his answer. As uncomfortable and tight as his trousers have become, Joseph can’t help but laugh through the misery. Offering him every opportunity to change his mind is all part of the delicious torture of the game. “Oooh, I’m throbbing,” she says through a sharp intake of breath._

_“An hour, maybe,” he amends through gritted teeth. His chest starts heaving, his breath growing quick and shallow while he imagines his love locking the front door of the dark library, arousal pooling at the apex of her thighs during the five-minute walk back to their apartment. The fantasy makes his cock twitch._ _  
_

_“Still too long.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I’m wearing my red panties.”_

_“Fuck.” He clamps down on his tongue to keep from crying out at the stunning picture she paints with those five little words._

_The knickers in question are a scrap of high-waisted lace. A string as thin as dental floss rides between her supple arse cheeks, and there’s no gusset at all, leaving her gorgeous curls open to his perusal. With or without her panties on, he can touch her wherever and however he wants._

_And oh, does he want._

_The first time she wore them, he walked into the apartment to find her lying on the couch, stroking herself lazily, her bold, unwavering gaze rooting him to the carpet while he watched her bring herself to orgasm. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him, sucking his tip until he quivered and spent himself in her hot mouth._

_Joseph whimpers into the phone, and as he crouches behind the counter to shift his heavy balls and hide his growing erection, he wonders if Belle is pressing her thighs together to relieve her own burning ache._

_“So?” she asks again, trying for a tone of smug confidence. But Joseph knows Belle better than he even knows himself, and he hears the vein of bashful concern in the tiny word, as though she really is worried he’s going to say no. Though she owns him body and soul, Belle never takes him for granted._

_“Twenty minutes,” he croaks. “I’ll be there.”_

_He hangs up the phone and starts speed-stacking boxes against the back wall of the store. He rounds on Clark, practically shoving him out the door, all the while babbling about how he needs to spend time with his friends and family. Work can wait until morning after all._

* * *

Back at their apartment, Joseph licks his lips and tugs at the inseam of his jeans, Belle’s phone call still making his head spin. Despite his disappointment, knowing she’s in the shower does little to cool his need, and his trousers are stretched tight across his groin. He rode his bicycle fast to get home, his legs pumping hard and his lungs ready to burst from standing all the way, too worked up to let his cock or balls graze the hard leather seat.  

“Belle?” he calls out, half-hoping he’s wrong and she’s waiting for him in their bed, still wearing the racy scarlet lingerie.

He pulls off his dusty work boots, staggering and hopping across the apartment toward the master bedroom. The heavy leather work shoes hit the closet floor with a thunk. The bathroom door is open as if in invitation, the spray of the shower pattering like raindrops.

Joseph’s jaw drops and his pulse begins to beat triple-time. The curtain is wide open and Belle’s stunning figure is a feast for his ravenous eyes. Her slender legs and soft belly are flushed from the hot water. Tight, rosy nipples stand out against breasts that somehow look fuller and rounder than they did before he left for work this morning. Perhaps it’s only his imagination, or the heat of the water is making them swell.

He loves every glorious inch of his wife's body, but her breasts make his knees weak and his jaw slack. The memory of tasting her skin makes him moan; he craves sucking her nipples the way he supposes other people crave food, the same way he used to crave the hot burn of whiskey scalding his throat after an endless day of listening to parishioners in the confessional. While he stares at the dimpled curve of Belle’s arse, he thanks the good Lord his days of being a priest are long over.

She splays one hand against the tile with a groan, eyes closed, holding the shower head between her legs. The crotchless knickers she taunted him with on the phone are riding high on her hips, the fabric slathered with soapy foam. Scented steam fills the bathroom, and Joseph inhales the aroma of roses and lavender and _Belle._ Her head falls forward, her soaked chestnut curls forming a curtain that obscures her face from view.

“Ah!” She changes the angle of the showerhead, now pressing the metal firmly against her sex, and Joseph’s cock jumps in response to her cry.

She has yet to turn around and notice him, and while watching her pleasure herself is indeed a pleasant pastime, his body is arching toward her of its own accord, desperate to be joined with her wet heat.

He plays with the buttons of his shirt, undoing and redoing the one along his collarbone, considering his next move.

While Belle adores surprises, Joseph loathes them—even happy ones. Besides him choosing the vocation being his mum’s fondest wish, he supposes his fear of the unknown is another reason he became a priest in the first place. There is comfort and safety in the mundane routines of life. But the joy found in making Belle happy, combined with the intensity of his need, gives him the courage to join her in the shower. He’s confident she won’t push him away, and maybe he can even help her come before the pulsing showerhead has all the fun.

His hands fly to the button on his jeans, shoving the coarse material down his thighs. Seconds later he shrugs out of his shirt and is shuffling toward the tub naked, his fingers trailing down his stomach to tease his hardness while Belle throws her head back with another long moan.

When she shuts off the water and turns around, her eyes like burning cobalt, he pulls up short and gasps. She is a goddess rising from the ocean, her skin flushed and dripping, her hair a dark tumble down her back and around her shoulders. Her sex is gorgeous, bare and pink and glistening with arousal where it peeks out from beneath her pubic curls, a shade darker than the hair on her head. Water runs down her body and off her lace knickers in rivulets.

They stare at each other, silence stretching between them while the last of the water in the tub gurgles down the drain. The only sounds in the bathroom is the low groan of the ceiling fan.

Without a word, Belle steps out of the tub and reaches for his jutting cock, caressing the turgid flesh between her warm, wet hand. She opens her fingers, then runs the heel of her palm up the length of him from root to tip. Next, she cups his heavy balls, testing their weight and bouncing them in her fingers. Lightning races down his spine and Joseph’s eyes roll back in his head, the cords of his neck drawn tight with tension.

“Do you like this?” she asks, repeating the exquisite torture.

All he can do is whimper, his balls hard and tight, drawn up against his body. She knows the answer, but she wants him to admit it out loud.

“Do you?”

“More,” he begs, evading the question. Heat rushes to his cheeks.

“Tell me you like it, or I’ll stop,” she says, withdrawing her hand to trace patterns around his bellybutton with her nails, making his skin damp.

“Yes,” he hisses, his muscles tensing.

“Yes, what?” He feels her fingertips hovering above the tip of his cock, right where he needs her, and he opens his eyes to look down at himself, the blunt head of him weeping and flushed.

She rubs his slit with her thumb while he watches, then sucks the bead of liquid she collects into her mouth with a wicked smile.

“Yes!” He clenches his fists at his side, heat spiraling in his belly. “I like it. Feels so good.”

“That’s good, baby. I want you to feel good.” Belle rewards him by cupping his balls and giving them one, two, three more light bounces, forcing a cry from between his clenched teeth.

“Fuck! I love it!” He can no more stop his desperate cry than he can stop the sun from setting; the ecstacy of her touch and her words send him hurtling toward the precipice.

She squeezes his cock right below his head, stopping him from losing it then and there. When his breathing slows, she jiggles him one more time.

“Belle!” The urgent blurt of her name is a warning, telling her in no uncertain terms that if she continues to tease, this will be over before it’s begun.

Still dripping water all over the floor, she hums in pleasure. He finds the presence of mind to pluck a fluffy towel off the shelf next to the toilet and offers it to her. She accepts it with a smile, but rather than drying herself, she spreads it on the cold tile, smoothing the corners with her feet. “Lie down.”

“Here?” he asks, even as he kneels on the hard floor to obey her gentle command.

“Yeah. Right here.” She pats the towel, then straddles his stomach when he’s lying flat on his back. The towel isn’t much of a cushion, but when she rubs her slick mound against his lower abdomen, he cares about nothing except burying his cock in her soft heat.

“Did you, ah?” He trails off with a hard swallow when she dangles her dripping breasts in his face, the areolas and nipples swollen and perfect.

“Come? No. I worked myself up with the shower head, but I needed _you_.” She strokes his face with her small, damp hands. “Now I can’t even make it to the bed.”

Joseph stares at her in wonder. It’s as though she has no idea what her flattery does to him. He sobs and buries his face in the valley between her breasts, sipping the water off her body. Certain he’ll go mad if he doesn’t taste her sweet skin, he closes his mouth over a turgid nipple, suckling in hard pulls. There is a hint of rose petals from her soap on her skin, the taste sweet and floral on his tongue. Desire spikes again, making his belly flutter, and his cock jumps.

Encouraging him with her moans, she presses her hands against his chest and hovers above his face, raining cool drops of water over his cheeks, forehead, and torso. Letting his tongue lead, he leans forward, supporting himself on his elbows. The tile is slippery with water and his elbows scrabble for purchase, digging into the grout while he laps and licks. Her appreciative sighs and hot breath are in his ear, and she tugs on his hair to lock his mouth against body.  
  
Some days it takes nothing more than her nipples in his mouth and the light brush of her hands on his cock to make him come hard and fast. But the fire of determination burns bright in Belle’s eyes tonight, and she soon pulls back to settle herself over his hips, the wet lace of her crotchless knickers rubbing against his flesh. She’s going to take him while wearing them, and he trembles in anticipation. Her knees splay on either side of his body, and she takes him in hand to guide him toward her center. When she drags his blunt, sensitive head through her soaking folds, Joseph grunts in approval.

Belle lifts her hips to impale herself on his cock with agonizing slowness, her body clenching around his tip before she sinks down to the hilt. They moan in unison, the heat of her body grazing his balls. Tears fill his eyes when Belle surrounds him, her artless little whimpers and groans making him feel humble and cherished. Everything about this woman is genuine, and even after two years of marriage, she astounds him every day with her generosity and love. To think that she wants _him_ of all people—he will never reach the end of his gratitude to her and to God for the gift of her love.

Panting with exertion, Belle braces her hands on his chest and slides up his shaft in a long, leisurely stroke. “All day long I thought about taking you like this, deep and slow.”

“So slow,” he echoes, watching her through lowered eyelids as she eases down the length of his cock again, her mouth hanging open and her eyes closed.

Her skin is slowly drying in the humid bathroom air, but her long, wet hair continues to spray him with cool droplets. The water seems to sizzle on his fevered skin before it evaporates, the sensation making him shiver.

Another kind of shudder courses through him when she grinds against him, rolling her hips in a slow circle. The wet lace of her knickers is rough against the skin of his hips and upper thighs, chafing him with a pleasurable burn.

“Joseph!” Belle cries out as she begins to move faster, the drops of cooled water on her body turning to sweat. “You’re so thick and hard inside me. Never want to stop!” She plunges down, now riding him in earnest. Red painted nails dig into his chest, her sweat-slicked palms bracing against him for leverage, and he welcomes the pain, knowing his chest will be marked with bloody little crescents when she’s done.

“Belle, Belle, Belle, Belle…” Over and over he chants her name, while she raises and lowers herself on his cock. He bucks up into her, his pelvis jerking, and he frames her hips with his hands to try to calm himself, needing her to find release before he comes.

“Yes!” She hisses when he grabs her hips, and he hooks his fingers into the sides of her panties, digging his thumbs into her flesh. “I want to see and feel your fingerprints on me tomorrow. You’re _mine!”_

“Yours,” he agrees, his voice vibrating from the force of her thrusts. “Always yours.”

The back of his head thuds against the hard tile floor as she rides him, her channel fluttering around him and her breasts bouncing on every downward stroke.

“So good, my bonny Belle. Sweet fuck, you feel so good!” Mindless in his need, Joseph’s head lolls back and forth on the floor, a stream of expletives spewing from his lips.

Again and again, she slams down on his cock, and all he can do is pray and hold on while ecstasy builds between them in a wild explosion of color and light.  
  
Every muscle in his body is tense, his control fraying. When he doesn’t think he can hold out another moment, she stops rocking and grinds hard against him, circling her hips, her mouth open on a high-pitched wail. At last, her body clenches around his cock and she floods him, bathing him in a rush of scalding fluid. The pleasure overwhelms him and it’s his turn to come, the effort of holding back making him scream. Snapping his hips, he spurts inside her, jerking and moaning as she wrings every drop of seed from his body.

“I love when you scream for me, Joseph.” She collapses on top of him, seeking his mouth with hers, and they gasp into each other’s mouths to share the first kiss of the night, tongues searching while they tremble in each other’s arms.

It’s an effort to wrench his mouth away from hers, but he wants to suckle her breasts again. “Belle, please. Let me.”

When she nods, he sags with relief and reverses their positions. Gently he eases her down to the floor so she is lying on her back against the sweat-dampened towel, his arms cradling her head. Carefully, he settles between her open thighs, his softened cock sticky and wet with their fluids.

He nuzzles her chest with his lips and nose, sobbing when she threads her fingers through his hair and massages his scalp. He drags one hand out from under her head and brings it to her breast, cupping and massaging, and runs his thumb over a hard nipple until she groans. He latches onto her breast with his mouth, lust and gratitude pulling a rumbling moan from deep in his chest.  

His tongue circles her nipple and her fragrant, rose-scent skin fills his nostrils. She is surrounding him, enveloping him with her body, and while he sucks, he feels the sharp, staccato beat of her heart against his ear, the source of her love for him. Joseph can’t help but feel this is symbolic; he is never happier than when he is pleasuring his wife this way, the ritual both comforting and inflaming.

Her knees fall open as she keens, and he takes more of her breast into his mouth, sensing her renewed need. Belle’s back arches, and her hips begin to shunt upward as she rubs herself against his flaccid cock. The wet friction feels incredible against his sensitive flesh even though he is too spent to come again for at least another hour.

“Yes, baby.” She urges him to continue suckling, tugging his hair at the roots until he shudders. “Don’t be gentle.”

Her loving praise sends a rush of pleasure through him nearly equal to the elation of his orgasm. “I love to make you feel good,” he says against her skin, both shy and filled with pride. “And the way you taste...I could do this forever.”

“Darling Joseph.” She reaches between their sweaty bodies to stroke his half-hard cock with tender fingers.

“I can’t, sweetness,” he whispers, letting go of her hardened nipple with a pop. “Too soon.”

“Bite me. Please.” She arches toward him for more, and tugs his hair toward her other breast.

He smiles against her nipple and begins to lap and nibble at this one too, his fingers twisting and plucking the one he has already suckled. Belle moans and rotates her hips, grinding against him. She opens her legs wider, wrapping them around his waist, and his soft cock glides against her clit while he rubs his stubbled cheeks all over her breasts and marks her skin with soft bites.

Belle is trembling beneath him, her hands frantic as they roam from his hair to his back, clutching at him anywhere she can reach. “Almost...baby, I’m so close.”

Joseph reaches between their bodies to find her clit, rubbing and pinching her with his fingers. His hand is slick with her pleasure and his, and his cock stirs. “Come for me, my bonny love. Oh, angel, you’re _soaked._ ” He continues to stroke her, her inner muscles tensing and her moans getting louder while he growls in her ear, telling her over and over how gorgeous she is, how privileged he is to be hers, how much he loves to bring her pleasure.

“Oh yes...that’s...yes!” Belle breaks again with a loud cry, her channel squeezing his fingers like a vice, hips shunting as she rides his hand, her flesh convulsing against his soft cock.

He kisses her sweaty cheeks and moist lips, holding her close while she pants and twitches with aftershocks. Damp hair is plastered to her forehead, and they both need a shower now, but he’s too content and tired to care. “Belle, you’re amazing,” he says, closing his eyes.

“So are you." She strokes his sweaty hair. “Thank you for coming home for me.”

“I was a touch confused when I got here and you were in the shower,” he confesses, opening one eye to look at her.

The smile she gives him is nothing less than sassy. “I like to keep you on your toes.”

He snorts with laughter. “That you do, my love. That you do.” His foot brushes against the cool porcelain of the commode and he laughs again. “Good thing we’re both wee, or we wouldn’t fit on the floor.”

“Mmmm,” she agrees, carding her hands through his hair and encouraging him to lay his head against her breasts.

“Bed?” he asks after a while, reluctantly lifting his head from the soft pillow of her chest. They be suffering tomorrow if they stay here on the hard bathroom floor.

“Bed.” She holds her arms out to him.

She’s boneless when he hooks his arm under her knees and lifts her against his body to carry her bridal-style to their bedroom. Her eyes are closed in exhausted bliss, and he slips her naughty knickers off and draws the sheets and blankets up around her, settling them both into bed. After the cold, hard dampness of the bathroom floor, the soft, cool slide of the clean sheets feels like heaven.

“Ice cream?” he asks after he’s held her a little while longer. Knowing the answer without having to ask, he disentangles their limbs so he can rummage through the freezer for the cartons he hid at her request. To keep her from eating the entire carton in one sitting, she always insists, leaving the kitchen with her hand plastered over her eyes whenever he brings it home and tells him to "hide it properly."

He pulls soft blue sleep pants over his hips. “Strawberry Cheesecake or Triple Chocolate Avalanche?”

“Yes.” She smiles at him with her eyes closed.

“Don’t fall asleep before I get back, sweetheart,” he teases. “The kitchen’s not far.”

“Joseph!” Belle giggles, her eyes still closed.

Her cheeks are pink and glowing, and she looks more beautiful than he ever thought possible. Her face, usually expressive and animated, is serene with contentment. Unable to help himself, he hovers in the bedroom doorway, basking in the remarkable glow of the woman he loves.

“You’re still there. I can feel you staring,” she says.

Caught, he swallows a smile. “Aye.”

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” she asks, opening her eyes.

“More than books and ice cream?” he asks, feigning shock. But the bright blue intensity of her gaze makes him falter, the mood growing serious.

She rises from the bed and crosses the room to wrap her arms around his neck. “Those are nice, but if I needed to, I could live without them. But I can’t live without you. You’re my whole world, Joseph.”

Her arms tighten around him, and she tucks her head into the space between his shoulder and neck, the place God made for her alone.

Joseph’s eyes well up and his throat thickens with emotion, but he manages to nod against her shoulder and say, “Me too, my love. Me too.”

###

**Author's Note:**

> Was it good for you? XD


End file.
